


Dark Eyes Adventure Bring

by krikkiter68



Series: Twisted, Tangled [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Chaotic Bisexuals, Cock Ring, Cum Inflation, Dildos, F/M, Flogging, Multi, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding Crops, Sex Machine, Shaving, Shaving Kink, Spanking, Switch!Clara, Switch!Master, Victorian outfits, do not copy to another site, do not host work on unofficial apps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:57:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22792498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krikkiter68/pseuds/krikkiter68
Summary: The follow-up to "Twisted, Tangled".  Clara finds herself entangled with a whole new version of The Master.
Series: Twisted, Tangled [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1914034
Comments: 20
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

Clara raises her eyebrows at the number as it slides across the screen. Intrigued, she selects and reads it.

\- Hi, love. Miss me? 😊

She recognises the number, long though it is. She types back:

\- Might do. Who are you?

A second later, a message comes back.

\- Surprised you’ve forgotten. We had a lot of fun, I seem to remember… 😉

She chuckles, and texts back:

\- Missy?

A pause, then:

\- Master to you. Fancy having some more fun? Just name a location. I’ll come and pick you up.

She replies:

\- Ooh, I’m intrigued! OK. What shall I wear? 😊

\- I’ll make you ooh, love. 😉 I was thinking, maybe a Victorian theme? I’ll leave the details to your rather vivid imagination, dear. 

Clara studies herself in her three-sided mirror, admiring herself from all angles. There’s no false modesty in her – she knows she looks fantastic. She wears a black lace corset, tightly bound in red silk lacing, front and back, that emphasises the curves of her waist and the swell of her breasts, only just covering her rosy, already-peaked nipples. She wears a black velvet choker around her neck, with a hollow gold ring shining in the middle. Her delectable bottom is only barely covered by black silk French knickers, outlined in an outrageous flurry of frills. Red and black suspenders attached to silk seamed stockings, the whole outfit rounded off by cute, lace-up, pointy-heeled boots. Her dark hair is coiled up on the top of her head with adorable kiss-curls framing her cheeks, her lips rouged, eyes outlined with kohl. She looks gorgeous, and, by the standards of the period, utterly disreputable. 

She nods, satisfied, at her reflection – she wouldn’t say no to herself right now – then takes the deep red velvet robe from the back of her chair. Once on, it covers her from neck to ankle. She fastens the strap under her chin, and grins as she hears the loud vworping of a TARDIS outside her room.

It’s a shack, somehow wedged into the corridor of her flat. If she squints, it could look a bit like a cottage. She knocks on the door.

Lift up the latch, and come in, my dear, she remembers.

Seconds later, the door is opened, and her eyes widen at the man in front of her, very sharply dressed in an overcoat, waistcoat and tight breeches. His huge dark eyes shine as he doffs his top hat towards her.

“Clara?”

“Master?”

He grins, raising his impressive black eyebrows, and she feels herself flushing. He’s terribly handsome.

“Oh, Clara,” he murmurs. “I like it when you use my name.”

“Bet you do. You’re…different,” she ventures.

He cocks his head.

“Oh? In what way, exactly?” he murmurs, grinning. Quite a cheeky incarnation, she thinks.

“Oh, I dunno. Your voice. Not Scottish, anymore. You’re Northern now, aren’t you? From Manchester, yeah?”

“Wouldn’t know. Never been,” he says, sounding amused. 

“Just a thought. I’m from Blackpool, myself.. We could be neighbours. Almost.”

He smiles, then glances down at her lips. She can tell he loves them.

“Anyway. What’s your safeword, love?” he husks.

“Missy,” she says. Their beautiful dark eyes sparkle in the gentle candlelight just inside the TARDIS, holding each another. There’s a pause. He chuckles.

“That figures. Mine’s Oblivion.”

Of course.

“Oh,” she says, beginning to smile, “you’re a switch? Sounds funny, but I sort of guessed.”

He bites his lower lip as he grins. It’s very endearing.

“Certainly am. Doubles the fun, don’t you think?”

She reaches out and takes both his hands in her much smaller ones.

“No arguments from me. I’m one, too.”

He glances at her, his gaze travelling from her dark hair to the pointed toes of her boots, and she flushes again.

“Well then,” he murmurs, “you’d best come in.”


	2. Chapter 2

Her heart flutters as she steps over the doorway into the shack, and he closes the door behind them. The whole place, from floor to ceiling, is lit up by candles. It’s beautiful and it could ignite at any second. Just like him, she thinks.

She glances around, then turns and looks up into those deep, dark eyes. He’s neither broad nor tall, but he looks imposing. He has a fantastic energy, a presence that she’d like to explore. Plus, the hat. Everyone looks great in a top hat, she thinks. Mind you, he’d probably look great in a bin liner..

She smiles brightly at him, and his eyes enquire why. She laughs, quietly.

“What do you think?” she says, gesturing to herself. He studies her for a second.

“Beautiful,” he says. He narrows his eyes and the tip of his tongue touches his top lip. “Take off your coat.”

She reaches up with trembling hands and undoes the fragile iron hook beneath her chin, letting go. The heavy velvet slides from her shoulders and collapses onto the floor behind her like a theatre curtain. He smiles as he sees her suddenly displayed in all her finery.

“Very good. Ten out of ten, Clara. Might I say, I thoroughly approve.” 

Oh, his voice, she thinks.

She could giggle, now, but she has a feeling it would spoil the mood.

“Thank you…erm, sorry…what should I call you?” she says. She has a feeling she’s having that dream again and reached that part where she’s lost the script. He grins. He’s found her place again.

“Call me Master,” he intones.

Her heart is thumping so hard. He can surely hear it. He must do. She looks up at him.

“Master,” she whispers. 

She looks up at his lovely face, sees him swallow and blink with emotion, like he’s waited centuries to hear it. Also, those long eyelashes of his. 

Then he grins at her, cheeky again.

“Wait here, love,” he murmurs.

He stalks over to the umbrella stand and draws out a riding crop from its depths, raising it into the air. He kisses the broad leather tip, and then walks slowly towards her. She stands her ground. She has absolutely no idea what he’s planning to do. 

He reaches out with the crop, resting the cool leather tip against her breastbone, and slowly advances, pushing her backwards. She backs away, until her heels hit soft carpet and she finds herself level with, what else, a fireplace, complete with leaping flames. He glances down.

“That’ll be OK,” he murmurs. “Won’t hurt your knees.”

His eyes meet hers and she sees him entering his own space.

“Kneel,” he growls.

She glances up at his face, fascinated. She wants to know who he is, now.

He swishes the crop in the air and it’s startlingly loud over the distant sound of crackling flames.

Ah, she thinks. He’s very theatrical. She glances up at him, seeing him glaring down at her, hands on hips, crop gripped in his right hand. Not in control, she notices. And, she thinks, he’s really fucking hot.

“I said,” he growls, his eyes hardening, “kneel.”

She kneels. Shudders as she feels the cool tip of his riding crop resting, ever so gently, across her right shoulder.

“Master,” she murmurs, “what do you want?”

“Good question,” she hears from high above, and she can hear the smile in his voice again, now. “Suck my cock, and we’ll take it from there.”

She smiles a smile he can’t see. The evening’s unfolding very nicely, she thinks.


	3. Chapter 3

Heart thumping, she sets to work unbuttoning his fly with her right hand. She hears his rasping breaths, which deepen as she palms his huge erection over the dark, silken cloth of his breeches. Rustling through layers of cloth, she frees his cock, and feels slightly overwhelmed by how big it is: reared up before her, velvet-dark, the tip already dripping with precum. Thank God I’ve got a wide mouth, she thinks.

“Like it?” he murmurs, voice almost breaking. She gulps.

“I do, Master. Thank you.”

She strokes his cock, earning a groan from him.

“Ohhh. I can tell you’re gonna be good at this. Feast on it, sweetheart.”

Holding the base, she opens her mouth and engulfs the sweet weight of him, lips spreading wider as she takes him further and further, until her nose brushes against the tight black curls of his pubic mound. She feels his hands settle in her hair, holding her head.

“Oh, Clara. That’s good. You’ve done this before, haven’t you? You bad girl…” he murmurs, voice trailing off into a gasp as she draws back and licks the underside of his cock. He tastes gorgeous, and it’s all she can do not to moan herself.

“Sucked his cock, too, didn’t you? The Doctor’s cock? And you enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

She hums in assent. He growls like a wolf, and she feels his fingers tighten in her hair.

“Bet you did, you gorgeous slut. Don’t forget, I’ve seen you spreading yourself for me, Clara Oswald.”

She hums again, sliding her lips back and forth on him. He moans appreciatively.

“Ohh, I’ve seen you, tied up and spread out with your cunt and arse stuffed so full, and you loved it, didn’t you? You were mad for it,” he gasps, thrusting forwards.

She moans as the memory sends a shockwave to her clit, and she feels herself flooding and burning, all at once. She grips his hips as he thrusts faster inside her mouth.

“Just you wait, Clara. I’ll fuck you in every one of your luscious holes. Every place, every position, every possibility. I’ll fill you with so much cum you can’t move…and you’ll beg me for more…and you’ll love it…” he stutters out.

She holds on to him as he thrusts faster and faster, bracing herself as he swells further in her mouth, loving his feral gasps and snarls. He grips her hair.

“I’m coming…!” he yells. 

A second later, his cum floods her mouth and throat, as he groans, loud and heartfelt. She swallows around him, repeatedly, her thighs shaking. God, she thinks. That’s a lot. That’s a hell of a lot. Finally, it stops, and she feels him stroking her hair.

She releases him from her mouth, and he laughs gently at her incredulous expression. He reaches a hand down to her and helps her stand. He flings his arms around her and draws her into a deep hug. She smiles. He's a very good hugger. He kisses her, hard and fast, then breaks away, eyes shining.

“Oh Clara,” he says, happily. “That was marvellous.”

“Well, thanks,” she says, smiling. “I liked it too. That was quite a monologue…”

He giggles. 

“Just showing my appreciation, my dear. Oh, just to warn you, this may go on for quite a long time.”

“I’d a feeling it might,” she says. “What shall we do next?”

He hugs her again and gazes down at her, his eyes suddenly soft and beseeching.

“Hurt me,” he whispers.


	4. Chapter 4

She gazes up into his eager eyes for a minute, pausing, and then she lashes out and slaps his face, far harder than she’s ever slapped the Doctor. His eyelids flutter shut, his mouth falls open, and a tiny, needy moan emerges from the back of his throat.

“Oh, yes,” he gasps. “I needed that. Thank you, Mistress.”

Glancing around, she spots an old-fashioned, three-legged stool, with a handsome black ebony hairbrush on top. He’s placed them there himself, of course he has. She stalks over to the stool, resisting the urge to skip with delight. Picks up the hairbrush and sits down, spreading her legs wide, the silk of her French knickers tightening against her sensitive, soaking flesh. 

She sees him gazing down at her, biting his lower lip, hands trying and failing to conceal his erection.

“You wicked man,” she says in a slightly trembling voice, “come and take your punishment.”

He approaches her, head bowed, and he suddenly seems so very young. He takes off his hat, laying it and the riding crop on a nearby table. A table, she notices for the first time, featuring a wide variety of whips, cuffs, and a huge number of leather and metal articles. Christ, she thinks, the possibilities are endless, tonight. It’s all she can do not to grin. He gazes at her expectantly, and she clears her throat.

“Right,” she says, her voice hoarse. “Kneel. And spread yourself over my lap.”

Eyes lowered, he kneels before her, meekly draping himself over her wide-spread stockinged legs. She can hardly believe he’s the same person who ordered her to kneel minutes earlier, but he is, and it’s marvellous. He’s a prism reflecting endless light, and she wants to chase it. She strokes his back, and he shudders with desire.

“Undo your breeches, and pulls them down for me,” she intones.

A fumbling and rustling of fabric from him, and his arse is exposed to her gaze. God, it’s beautiful, and so is he. She feels him sigh, so pliant and trusting now, and she swallows.

“That’s…good. That’s very good. Are you ready, sir?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he breathes out. “I’m ready.”

Pinning him with her left hand, she raises the brush high in the air in her right and brings the wooden side down on his arse with a loud crack. She hears him gasp, the impact jolting him forward.

“Again,” he grinds out.

She strikes him harder, alternating blows on both sides, watching his cheeks redden and flush in front of her. His breathing becomes irregular, turning from breathy gasps into sobs. She can feel him shifting forward, grinding his hips against her thighs until the tops of her stockings are soaked.

She twists her fingers through his thick black locks and pulls, and he screams as she spanks him harder. She starts as she feels a warm jet of cum spilling over her thighs, and pauses. He’s bent right over, gasping, and she can hear him struggling to form words.

“…thank you…” he manages.

She helps him to his feet and gazes up at him. His eyes are closed and tears are still spilling down his wet face. She ruffles his hair.

“Good boy,” she whispers. He gives her a wide, sated grin, his eyes flashing wickedness.

“Oh,” he murmurs. “Nice sentiment. Wrong target, love.”


	5. Chapter 5

She smiles back at him.

“If you say so.” She thinks for a second. “You didn’t use your safeword?”

“Didn’t want to, love,” he says. “I liked it too much.”

He gazes at her, eyes shining in the candlelight.

“Stay exactly where you are,” he says. She does, heart buzzing with anticipation. 

He walks over to the wall and starts turning a large metal handle, and she hears something jangling, descending towards her. What on Earth is that, she thinks. Some sort of bridle? He nods with satisfaction.

“That’s low enough,” he says, almost to himself. “Stretch your arms out, love.”

She does so, as he walks behind her. She shivers as his soft lips touch her neck, then feels a velvet-lined cuff circling her right wrist. He kisses her neck again as he buckles it shut. She can feel the metal of the spreader bar, cold against her bare shoulder blades, as he fastens the cuff on her left. He steps back, rubbing his hands as he surveys her.

“Exquisite,” he murmurs. 

He walks over to the table and Clara’s wide eyes grow wider still as she sees him picking up a black suede flogger from the table. 

“Don’t worry, my dear,” he says. “I’m not gonna hurt you. Far from it. You’ll be begging me not to stop. I promise.”

“That right?” she murmurs. She sees his nostrils flaring and she’s certain he’s caught her scent. He smirks at her. Oh God, she thinks, he has.

“You see, the thing is,” he says casually, pacing as he swishes the flogger with his right hand, tapping it almost unconsciously into his left palm, “I didn’t play with your tits the last time I had you tied up and spread out. Which was very remiss of me.”

Passing, he abruptly pulls down the front of her black corset and readjusts it so her breasts are fully exposed and pointing skyward. She gasps at the new constriction. He claps his hands, delighted with the effect

“Oh, that’s marvellous! And for my next trick…”

She cranes her head down, watching, as he slowly strokes the flogger over the smooth skin of her breasts, running it over each of her nipples in slow, concentric circles. Each strand is as soft as silk, and she can feel each filament caressing her. Minutes pass, and each caress sends pulsing shock waves to her clit and she feels herself flooding, drenching the silk of her knickers. She gives a breathy little moan, then opens her eyes and sees him smile slyly at her.

“How much do you want to come, Clara Oswald?”

“Please!” she moans. “Oh, God, please do it…”

“As you wish,” he murmurs, descending to his knees.

He gently pulls her knickers down her legs, and gazes up at her, licking his lips.

“Please…” she whimpers.

She gasps as he gives her a single, hard lick from the base of her spine to her clit and halfway up her abdomen, and then, unbelievably, stops. She’s burning, and the candle flames blur in her vision. He’s the Devil, and he’s tormenting her. He stands up again, grinning.

“You bastard!” she grinds out.

He grabs her from behind, his cock pressing hard against her back. She shudders as he kisses her earlobe and she’s so close, now.

“Say my name,” he husks in her ear, his hands roaming over her.

“Master,” she whispers.

“Can’t hear you,” he murmurs. “What do you want, love?”

“Master,” she moans, breathing hard, “please make me come.”

She feels him grin against the back of her neck.

“You only had to ask,” he murmurs.

He plunges two fingers abruptly into her dripping cunt and she screams as she convulses around them, wailing as he pulls them out.

“Please, Master…” she sobs as she slumps forward, “please fuck me.”

He growls as he pushes her shoulders down and thrusts hard into her from behind, one hand frantically stroking her clit whilst the other gropes at her exposed breasts. He wrenches two orgasms from her, gasping and snarling as she twitches hard around him. She’s bent almost double by the time he fills her with a pulsing jet of cum, and she bucks against him, never wanting it to end. Finally, groggy and sated, she feels him slump forward and embrace her, his hearts beating hard against her back.

“Oh, Clara,” he murmurs, his voice high and dreamy, “that was heavenly.”

“Same,” she murmurs back.

He helps her upright, and she sighs in relief as she feels him uncuff her. Her arms were getting tired.

“So what now?” she asks, and she knows he’s grinning.

“It’s my turn,” he says.


	6. Chapter 6

He embraces her again, warm arms tight around her back, and kisses her.

“Oh, Clara,” he murmurs against her lips. “I do so enjoy playing with you.” 

She smiles.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” she says. “Master?”

“Hmmm?” he says, rubbing her sore forearms. He’s really quite sweet in his own peculiar way, she thinks.

“Strip for me,” she says. He nods.

“Whatever you say, Mistress.”

As he removes his clothes, she walks over to the table and tries on his top hat. It’s far too big for her, and it falls straight over her eyes. She raises it again to see him watching her and barely restraining his giggles. She takes it off again.

“Stop that,” she says, trying to sound stern.

“Sorry, Mistress,” he murmurs.

He stands naked before her, holding his arms out to her. She fastens a cuff around first his right wrist, then the left. Walks over to the handle on the wall and turns it, raising both his arms above his head.

“Mistress,” he intones, “please punish me.”

Fixing him with her eyes, she walks over to the table, and takes her time surveying the whips and floggers on its surface. Eventually, she selects a black leather flogger, flicks it gently on her palm and winces at its sting.

She picks up a cock ring from the table and holds it up for him to look at, raising her expressive eyebrows at him. His eyes are pleading, his lips quivering with anticipation. His cock is hard against his stomach, and she sees it jerk in response.

“Such a depraved soul,” she says, softly, as she walks over and kneels in front of him, sliding the steel ring over his hard flesh. “You’d like to come from the pain, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he whimpers, then gasps as she takes his cock in her mouth. 

She sucks him with sure, firm strokes, savouring their combined sweet and salty flavours, her tongue caressing behind the broad, weeping head, holding him firmly in her mouth as he tries in vain to thrust forwards.

“Oh, gods…Mistress…Clara!” she hears.

She scrapes her teeth gently down the length of his cock, and he hisses. Caresses him softly with her lips again, and he sighs. She’s playing him like an instrument and he’s singing for her. She slides back and kisses the head of his cock, relishing the taste of the copious amount of precum, before standing once more. He jerks his hips forward, desperately.

“No…gods, no! Don’t stop! Please…” he cries out.

She reaches up, seizes his thick black hair in her right hand and twists. He whimpers.

“You’ll do as I say,” she snaps. 

She walks behind him and strokes the strands of the leather flogger down his back, and his shudder seems to reverberate all the way through her. Raises it and brings it down sharply on his buttocks. He screams, thrusting forwards.

“Gods! Mistress!” he yells.

“Same thing, as far as you’re concerned,” she snarls, whipping him again.

“Uuuh! Clara! It’s agony!” he shrieks.

“You know what to say, if you want it to stop,” she murmurs.

“Who says I want it to stop?! Fuck, Clara…!” he yells, his words tailing off into a scream as she whips him again.

After six more strokes, he screams out his safeword, and she throws the flogger onto the floor and embraces him from behind. He’s trembling all over as she runs her hands over his chest.

“Well done,” she croons against his neck. “Such a brave boy, aren’t you?”

“Bravery,” he moans, “had nothing to do with it.”

She slides her hand down his chest and over his abdomen, taking hold of his hugely erect cock. It feels ready to burst.

“Would you like to come, now?” she asks, sweetly.

“…Yes…” he grinds out.

She kneels in front of him, gazing up at his flushed, desperate expression, smiles up at him again and buries him in her mouth, and hums. Undoes the ring, and her eyes widen as his cock expands in her mouth, stretching her lips.

She hears him screaming again as a bolt of cum hits her throat, and just keeps coming. He tastes so good, and it’s turning her on all over again. She bears down on him, swallowing and swallowing. Finally, it slows to a trickle, then stops. She stands up, shaking, feeling ridiculously bloated as she walks unsteadily to the handle and turns it anticlockwise, lowering the Master’s arms again.

He looks wrecked, tears still shining on his face and his hair all over the place. She kisses him as she undoes his cuffs, and he all but falls into her arms as she holds him.

“Thank you,” he murmurs into her hair. “Gonna be thinking about that for the rest of my lives, that’s for sure.”

“I’m flattered,” she says. “Which bit?”

“All of it,” he says. Then, he breaks away, his eyes bright.

“It’s not over yet,” he says. “I’ve got quite the surprise coming up for you, Clara Oswald.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that, then?” she says.

He takes her hand and flashes her a wicked grin.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. It’s best I show it to you.”


	7. Chapter 7

He leads her into another room, and her eyes widen.

“Is that a…” she starts, and pauses.

It’s a wide table, padded and covered in black latex, with a large number of straps and cuffs attached to it. Clara can’t take her eyes off the large, cylindrical object dangling from the ceiling and overhanging the table. She walks up to it and strokes its brass surface and gazes at the numerous dildos attached to the front of it. He grins delightedly at her expression.

“A fucking machine, my dear? But of course!” he says, and chuckles.

She says nothing. She feels like her knees are about to buckle underneath her, and she grips his hand.

“Well, I know how insatiable you are, darling. But first,” he says, leading her to a curtained-off anteroom, “I think it’s time for a little prep, hmm?”

She knows what he’s talking about, of course she does. They’d discussed their kinks and their limits before meeting, and she’s looking forward to it. All the same, her heart is hammering as she gazes at the towel-covered, clinical white trolley, the stirrups overhanging it and the razor and washcloth next to the sink. He gestures towards the trolley, kindly.

“Make yourself comfortable, Clara.”

“Th-thank you,” she stammers, as she lies full length upon it. She can hear water pouring from the taps, and his contented humming. He turns to look down at her, grinning.

“There’s a good girl,” he says, walking up to her. He lifts her feet, one by one, and places them in the widely-spaced stirrups, completely exposing her to his gaze. Presses a lever at the side of the trolley, her hips are elevated to his eye level. He switches on a spotlight and angles it between her legs.

He walks over to the sink and retrieves the washcloth, and Clara closes her eyes as she feels him washing her with the warm, soapy cloth, its slight roughness only adding to her arousal. It’s quite relaxing, in its own way. Finally, he nods, then turns to pick up the razor.

“Stay absolutely still,” he murmurs, and she’s not going to argue.

She grips the side of the trolley as she feels the first touch of cold steel against her crotch and his warm breath on her thigh. He begins to remove her soaked, soapy hair with careful, sensual strokes. She gasps as her arousal spikes, and she has to grip the sides of the trolley to keep herself still.

“Oh, Clara,” he murmurs, “you’re getting so wet, love. You’re really loving this, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Master,” she breathes out, and feels him stroking her thigh.

She’s shaved herself, of course she has, she loves removing her pubic hair herself, but nothing compares to someone actually doing it for her. The cool steel strokes her, swiping down from her pubis to her clit, and out again to her outer labia, removing every trace of hair as it goes. She feels helpless against the pulse of cool air against her cunt, and she moans.

“Such a pretty cunt you’ve got, Clara,” he croons. “Just imagine, how soft and silky you’re gonna feel, when I’ve finished this…”

She moans in response, head arching against the trolley. The caress of steel against her labia is one of the best feelings she’s had in her life.

“Can’t wait to see you strapped to that machine, Clara,” he murmurs. “I want to see you spread out and taking those dildos in your bare, silky-soft cunt, darling. And then…” he murmurs, as he strokes the razor further down over her perineum, “when you’re stuffed as full as you can be, I’ll fuck your gorgeous arse myself..."

She gasps and grits her teeth as he strokes lower. Finally, he lifts the razor away from her, completely composed while she pants and moans.

She hears the water running again, and then he’s back with the cloth, and it’s pressing, deliciously cold, between her legs, and she howls as he washes her again.

“There,” he says, with satisfaction, “all clean.”

He tosses the cloth into the sink and beams down at her.

“Now, is there something else you wanted, Clara?”

“Please, Master,” she moans, the bright light spinning and blurring above her, “please make me come.”

“Of course,” he murmurs.

He stands between her legs, plunging two fingers of his right hand inside her soaking cunt whilst circling her clit with his left thumb, and she comes, immediately, fluttering around his fingers and yelling. Her orgasm seems to last several minutes, and she’s seeing stars as she comes back down.

He bends down and kisses her.

“And if you liked that,” he murmurs, grinning, “just wait and see what I’ve got planned for you next.”


	8. Chapter 8

She’s still a little groggy as he reaches down and helps her to her feet. He leads her into the main room once more, and she gazes up at the brass object over the bed. She can feel his pulses in his palm. He’s grinning, fizzing with excitement.

“Welcome to the orgasmatron, Clara,” he murmurs. 

“Nice,” she says, a little uncertainly.

He bends down and kisses her forehead.

“Don’t worry, love,” he murmurs. “Once this thing gets going, you won’t want it to stop.”

He makes a broad gesture towards the bed, and she clambers on to it.

“What position do you want me in?” she says, looking round at him.

“Oh, Clara. That’s completely up to you,” he says.

“OK,” she says, arranging herself on her hands and knees. He grins at her.

“I was kind of hoping you’d go for that one,” he says, smirking.

Clara stays still as he walks around the bed, and she can practically see his mental processes as he sizes her up. 

“These are just a precaution,” he says, his eyes shining as he fastens the black velvet restraints to her wrists and ankles. “Just to make sure you don’t fall off the bed from all the bucking you’re about to do.”

He stands behind her, and Clara yelps as he slaps her arse, hard.

“Perfect,” he says in a breathy tone.

Clara hears the contraption whirring into life behind her. Then feels the first vibrator, a sensual latex curve, contacting her clit and buzzing into life.

“Like it?” he murmurs.

“Mmm, yeah,” she says. “That’s…ooh…that’s lovely, Master.”

“Well, thanks. Wanna know the best bit? They can tell how turned on you are. They’ll adjust to give you exactly what you want. Which is,” he says, bending to kiss the back of her neck, “just what I want, too.”

“Is that…God!...right, Master?” she gasps.

A thick, writhing dildo fills her from behind in response, and she gasps, bucking backwards. He giggles.

“Oh, Clara. If only you could see yourself now. Wait a minute – yes, you can!”

On cue, the walls spin around, revealing set after set of ornate mirrors, and Clara’s confronted with scores of images of herself, pink-cheeked, her rouged mouth panting. She looks spectacular, and her pussy floods in response, sending the sensate dildo into overdrive.

“Oh, Master,” she gasps out, “that’s…amazing.”

“Dearest Clara,” he murmurs, genuinely fond. “Always in control, aren’t you? Hmm, look at the way it’s filling you. It really loves you, doesn’t it?” he says, as the dildo writhes faster inside her.

“Uhh, yeah…” she moans, her voice tailing off into a shriek as another thick dildo pushes inside her and coils around the first, luxuriating into her warmth.

The Master watches, palming his cock as the dildos writhe inside Clara, making her scream and buck, pulling against her restraints. He reaches up to the brass controls and presses a button that makes the dildos buzz, and Clara practically levitates off the bed in response. He looks at one of the dials, pleased.

“That’s four times you’ve come so far, Clara. You’re doing so well, love.”

A slender dildo, coated in lube, strokes along the cleft of Clara’s buttocks, and Clara closes her eyes as it pushes inside her arse. It starts buzzing, too, and she screams again as she comes.

“Six, darling,” she hears him murmur, on the edge of her consciousness. “You’re doing so well.”

She comes a seventh time, and slumps forwards, panting. The buzzing stops, and she pants with disappointment; she’d been so close, that time. She hears him chuckle, and she’s suddenly reminded of Missy.

“Where d’you want me, love?” he murmurs, voice thick with lust. 

“Anywhere. Just do it,” she groans.

“As you wish,” he smirks.

The machine withdraws the slender dildo from Clara’s arse, and she gasps as the Master thrusts inside to replace it, hard.

“How did you know I’d…”

“…Love it? Told you. This thing can read you, darling,” he says, licking a warm stripe up her neck as he thrusts inside her, huge and warm and solid, his chest pressing against her back. “Besides,” he murmurs, “I know you, Clara Oswald.”

She grins.

“Yeah, you do, Master,” she manages to say, before the dildos start buzzing once more and she gives herself up to pleasure.


End file.
